


Baby Blue

by krnpge



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Costume Parties & Masquerades, F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-16
Updated: 2016-03-16
Packaged: 2018-05-27 03:23:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6267577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krnpge/pseuds/krnpge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That time Octavia dragged Bellamy to a masquerade ball on the Ark and he met a cute blonde.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby Blue

**Author's Note:**

> If you recognize this, it's because I've also posted it on my tumblr [here.](http://bitchbellamy.tumblr.com/tagged/bellarke-fic)
> 
> And I haven't written in forever so my b if it's awful. :*

The room was spinning; bright lights were flashing along with the music while red, sweaty bodies danced. Bellamy stood by the entrance of the ballroom with crossed arms and an uncomfortable expression on his face. Not only did he have two left feet, he had never worn a suit before and it was becoming increasingly bothersome.

He had to remind himself why he had gone in the first place: his sister.

Speaking of….

“Octavia, do you even know how to dance?” Bellamy’s voice was weary; he wanted nothing more than for her to say that she was ready to leave.

Octavia pursed her lips. “I can dance just fine. Why don’t you try and have some fun for once instead of brooding?”

She raised a judgmental eyebrow in his general direction, seemingly annoyed yet Bellamy could see the mischievousness floating around in her eyes. She was clearly reveling in the fact that he was completely out of his element. Mr. Perfect had finally met his match – intimacy.

“Maybe I like to brood – I’m actually good at that,” he replied, crossing his arms even tighter.

O rolled her eyes.

“Just try. You’re all dressed up and I’m sure there’s at least one girl in this room that would love to dance with you, albeit out of pity.”

Bellamy heaved a sigh. I guess it wouldn’t kill me to try.

He noticed Octavia beginning to head away and called out to her.

“I don’t have a mask,” he said, sounding utterly defeated; gesturing towards his face.

She grinned. “Check your coat pocket.”

And then she was gone.

Bellamy reached inside his coat and felt around for a moment before his finger looped around a small string. He pulled out a black, Venetian-looking mask and quietly chucked to himself. I am absolutely too old for this.

Regardless of his one-foot-in-the-grave status, he placed the mask down over his eyes and made his way into the crowd.

He quickly decided that masquerade balls were his least favorite kind of ball.

Bellamy circled the room before coming to halt next to the snack bar. Well, he thought to himself as he scooped up a handful of chocolates, I tried.

“Why all the candy? Bad night?”

A girl’s voice crept over his shoulder, nearly causing his heart to leap out of his chest. He spun around to face her.

“I didn’t realize you were the candy police,” he said, his eyes searching for hers underneath the blood-red mask she was wearing.

It didn’t take him long to find them; they were the purest blue he had ever seen. He was almost sure they were sparkling.

“That’s funny,” she replied coyly. “What’s your name?”

Bellamy paused slightly before answering her. “I don’t think we’re supposed to be giving out that information.”  
The girl snickered.

“Okay, fine. What would you like me to call you, then? I can’t dance with a stranger.”

He could’ve sworn he’d heard her wrong.

“You… want to dance with me?” His mouth was moving on auto-pilot. “Why?”

She tilted her head to the side, gazing at him with a look he couldn’t quite place.

It was then that he noticed her dress of choice: it wasn’t big – like the others – but more form-fitting and had a long, lacey train in the back. And the red in her mask contrasted greatly with the dark, navy-blue fabric, as did her blonde hair which was loosely curled and fell just shy of her elbows.

“You looked a bit lost and I figured I could help you out of your shell. Or maybe,” she inhaled, raising her brows at him, “I was enticed by your hair. It’s quite amazing, if you didn’t know.”

Bellamy felt his cheeks turning red.

“Well then, Princess,” he said, trying desperately to ignore it. “I guess you should tell me what to call you so I know who I’m going to be in the infirmary with later.”

The blonde rolled her eyes. “Princess seems to be the go-to for me around here so that it is. Now, as for you…” she trailed off, appearing to be deep in thought.

“Just call me Bradbury,” he told her, figuring that no one knew him well enough to know that that was his middle name, anyway.

Princess laughed. “Okay, Bradbury. Not what I would’ve chosen, but… okay.”

Before he could say anything else incriminating, Bellamy tossed down the chocolate he had forgotten he was holding and put his hand out. She – as daintily as possible - placed hers on top of his and he lead them back out onto the main floor.

Bellamy suddenly was an abundance of nerves, reeling at the idea of humiliating himself in front of so many people.

“Relax,” the girl whispered. She draped her arms around his neck and met his eyes with her own. “See? This isn’t so awful, is it?”

Bellamy was too busy focusing on not stomping all over her feet to respond. His now clammy hands lingered at her waist, gently holding her as they rocked from side-to-side.

As they danced, the tension in his body slowly dissipated.

It felt good – to be in such close contact with someone who wasn’t Octavia; a stranger. He hardly remembered what that was like.

They held each other for what seemed like hours, occasionally sharing mundane facts about their daily lives, but not anything concrete as to keep up the charade. It wasn’t a “next top best friend” party, after all.

It was nearing twelve in the morning by the time they noticed that people were clearing the floor; most of them ripping off their shoes once they made it to the doors to rub their probably aching feet.

Bellamy furrowed his brows. “Should we-“  
“No,” Princess cut him off. “Not yet.”

She laid her head against his chest and Bellamy swore his heart skipped a beat. For a moment, he wasn’t sure what to do, but he took a deep breath and continued to dance, lowering his head slightly to be more at her level.

She smelled like berries, he noticed. Strawberries, specifically.

“Hey!”

A loud, excited voice came tearing between them. It was a girl with beautifully dark skin wearing a bright purple dress that was full of ruffles. Bellamy marveled at how she seemed to float alongside them.

“We’re going back to my quarters for some more drinks and a movie. You coming?”

She was very obviously talking to the blonde, who sighed and gave her friend a nod.

“Give me a few minutes.”

Friend glanced towards Bellamy, the corners of her lips twitching as she replied. “We’ll be right outside.”

She started off and threw one last look over her shoulder before exiting with the rest of the party-goers.

“So…” Bellamy started, stepping away precariously.

The blonde frowned.

“What?”

“I had fun.”

“Oh,” she mused. “Did you?”

There was an air of awkwardness and neither were quite sure what to say. Bellamy didn’t know whether to shake her hand or hug her or….

Thankfully, or surprisingly was more like it, he didn’t have to decide because she did for them. He had just begun to open his mouth to speak when her lips smacked against his.

It lasted about five seconds before they both pulled away, sharing hot faces and embarrassed expressions.  
“Sorry about that,” she murmured.

There it was: the vulnerability that Bellamy was so afraid of, and she must have been afraid of it, too.

“I… should probably go,” the blonde said, pointing behind her with her thumb. He held his breath.

You will never have a chance like this again.

“So, yeah, sorry….”

She began to turn away, stopping only because Bellamy had reached out to grasp her hand. Something unreadable flashed in her eyes as she faced him.

Although he was scared to death, he couldn’t let her go. Not yet.

He closed in, lightly pressing his forehead against hers to silently ask for permission. The blonde raised her head, nudging his nose with her own before meeting his lips.

This time was different.

This time, he could taste her: the cookie-flavored lip balm she was wearing; the raspberry candy on her tongue.

He felt electrified.

“Wow,” the girl whispered, being the first to come up for air. Bellamy ignored the dizziness and said the same.

They hovered there for a few moments, neither of them ready to separate but ultimately needing to do so.

“I guess your friends are waiting for you.”

Princess smiled. “Yeah, they are. You’re welcome to join, you know.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Bellamy caught Octavia struggling to carry what looked to be a large variety of (probably stolen) snacks out of the entrance.

He sighed. “I do appreciate it, but duty calls.”

“Duty? Sounds serious,” she replied, playfully flicking his arm. Bellamy laughed and tilted his head to the side, taking her in one last time before leaning down to kiss her cheek. He hoped his words to her would ring true.

“May we meet again.”

The blonde couldn’t help but smile as she watched him leave, her lips still buzzing.

“May we meet again.”


End file.
